Adopted
by Gratia Astra
Summary: Byakuya did not adopt Rukia. Oneshot, family-platonic-brotherly-sisterly love ONLY. No romance intended.  But if you wanna read it that way, I can't stop you. :P


_I was attacked! Again! This bunny wanted to be fluffy, so I tried my best to do fluff and not mush. I actually started with one sentence. Everything else just followed. You should know that I started to write this, stopped, and then came back so if the ending is written a little differently thatn the beginning, that's why. _

_I don't own Bleach or Rukia or...*snif*...Byakuya...*goes off and cries*._

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><p>In the dark of the night, Byakuya Kuchiki moved like a ghost through the halls of his mansion.<p>

No one else was awake, with the exception of the guards that patrolled the grounds. Without his captain's hiori, he was almost invisible. He made no noise. Each footfall was utterly silent. Even the black cloth brushed against itself silently as he walked across the wood floors. His hair flowed down around his shoulders, freed from the kenseikan. There was no hurry in his step, only relaxed intent. Outside in the gardens, a gentle breeze ruffled the branches of the numerous trees. The crescent moon reflected on the surface of a koi pond.

He stopped. A closed door stood before him. Behind it, lay his sleeping sister. Rukia.

The official story was that Byakuya had adopted her. They said he was crazy, taking in a scoundrel from Rukongai. Made her a princess, that's what they said he had done. It was a life that many dreamed of. Yes, she was indeed a fairy tale princess. They said he'd been kind and extremely generous; she should be grateful for it all. They said she hadn't earned what she'd been given, didn't deserve any of it. There were whispers about why he'd done it, the reasons ranging from pathetic to psychotic to scandalous.

They were wrong. Every one of them.

Byakuya hadn't adopted Rukia.

If they wanted to get it all backwards, it made no difference to him.

Still moving in silence, he slid the door open. In the center of the room, she slept, looking for all the world like a doll for some young princess. The dark-haired girl had wrapped herself tightly in the blanket. Anyone else might think she had done so to ward off the cold, but Byakuya was not anyone. She was having a bad dream, and was trying to protect herself from whatever visions interrupted her sleep. He watched her carefully, gauging her reaction and ready to leave should she unexpectedly wake. He loosened his tightly controlled spiritual energy and allowed it to fill the room. Slowly, the ever-so-gentle pressure began to affect the girl. After a while, he heard her breathing even out. Her fluctuating reiatsu, which was what had first alerted him to the issue, returned to its normal state of calm. Her shoulders began to still, but her hand never loosened it's grip on the soft material covering her. He stood firmly in place, determined to remain for as long as it took her to entirely relax and return to her peaceful sleep. It was not the first time he had done something like this, and it was likely not to be the last.

As head of the house, it was his responsibility to be constantly aware of every corner of his domain. As Rukia's older brother, it was his responsibility to make sure nothing upset her. As a Kuchiki, it was his responsibility to complete all his tasks with perfection. He did nothing halfway. If it was his task to ensure that Rukia was well, then not even a nightmare would dare interrupt his sister's much needed rest.

He used her responses to judge his own reactions. She was happy when he gave her his time or attention, and his company soothed her. If he could chase the monsters of the night away with his presence, then he would do it. Although, to be honest he had no idea when he had become a _comfort_ to the tiny female. He wasn't sure it mattered. Some time after he had saved her from Ichimaru's blade, probably. He hung his head. Even now, he was ashamed of himself for not rescuing her sooner. No matter how he tried, nothing he did seemed to make up for that lost time in which he had been so cold towards her. Rukia had forgiven him for everything, as though it didn't matter what happened in the past, so long as he cared for her now.

_He_ was crazy? _He_ was kind and extremely generous? _She_ should be grateful? _She_ hadn't earned what he'd given her? _She_ didn't deserve any of it?

They were _so wrong_.

Byakuya hadn't adopted Rukia.

She'd adopted him.

It was _Rukia_ that had been kind and generous. It was _him_ that should be grateful. It was _him _that didn't deserve what she'd given him, hadn't earned it. Even after all he'd done, and hadn't done, she loved him. He would have killed her himself, had not that Kurosaki brat stepped in and shown him the truth. And still, she had held his hand. She slept under the same roof, trusting him. It puzzled him to no end. He simply could not understand how she could love him when he was so undeserving of it all. Yet she did. Rukia gave him devotion and loyalty and affection. She gave of her heart so freely. It did not escape his notice how much she adored him.

In fact, she gave him more love and devotion than her sister had.

Hisana had loved him, and cared for him. But no matter what he did, there was always that dark reminder of guilt in her eyes. Even on their wedding day, Hisana had not been able to completely forget that she had abandoned her baby sister in the worst distract of all Soul Society. Every day she had gone back to Rukongai, to search for the child. Every day she had come back with absolutely nothing to show for her efforts. Every day of their life together, he had to contend with that memory. Even when she died holding his hand, her last wish had been for him to continue her quest to find her sister. All his memories of Hisana held, to some degree, whispers of Rukia. Because Hisana had devoted more of her time and energy to her lost sibling than she had to her own husband.

At first, when the Kuchiki clan had adopted her, Rukia had brought him nothing more than pain. They looked so much alike and yet they were so different. Hisana was always so gentle and fragile, while there seemed to be no end to Rukia's strength. He had never tried to kid himself as to why Rukia had survived and Hisana had died. He knew the answer to that. Hisana was too weak, in both body and mind. Even his love could not save her. Eventually he realized that comparing them was doing absolutely nothing but causing him pain, and he had stopped immediately. After that, he had begun to see Rukia as her own person. In a way, that had also been the end of his mourning. He had loved Hisana. But she had left him. She had also left him with a gift.

Standing above that gift, Byakuya felt an unfamiliar emotion play across his heart. It took him a moment to identify, and he was surprised when he did. It made sense, because Byakuya Kuchiki rarely had reason to feel fear. He could count the number of times he remembered being afraid on one hand. Three of those times had been for Rukia's sake. When Rukia had stood at the Sougyoku Hill, Ichimaru's blade poised to strike her down: he had been so afraid he wouldn't make it in time. All chances of apologizing, of explaining, of restitution would be lost if he was so much as one second too late. But he'd made it just in time. The feeling of her small body against his, still safe and alive, brought a relief so strong that it, combined with having a sword through his chest, had brought him to his knees. The second time had been during the Bounto attack. The messenger had interrupted the captain's meeting to report that Rukia was battling one of the intruders. There had been a quick burst of fear through him. Rukia had been injured in the real world, and that was when she was still recovering from her time in the white tower. He was afraid she might not be strong enough to protect herself. That short moment had given him the motivation needed to find her, and race to the lower district of Rukongai to rescue her. The third time had been in Hueco Mundo. He'd found her, unconscious and almost dead in a tower under the roof of Las Noches, but that had not brought fear. Standing above her, holding a sword to her neck, stood a dark-skinned Arrancar, but that had not brought fear either. Even then, in the middle of enemy territory, he'd been in control, confident that he would be able to prevent the Espada from harming the raven-haired girl. He'd stepped in, keeping his anger in check. Byakuya had engaged the creature, and fought with it. But then his opponent had sunk low and used a dirty trick. He had taken control of his little sister, and threatened to kill her with his strange power. Then and only then, had he felt it. The fear had been sharp and cold, as though Rukia was holding her sword to his throat rather than her own. He can still remember coming to a complete and sudden halt, the sight freezing him in place more effectively than any kidou spell. But he was Byakuya Kuchiki, and to threaten his pride was a death sentence.

He didn't understand why he felt it now, though. Still aware of every corner of his dominion, he could feel nothing out of sort. Here in the mansion, any threat would have to get through the many bodies of security before it could become real. If it did, he was more than powerful enough to handle anything that could come up. Glancing down again, thinking about a time when he might have actually destroyed this precious treasure with his own hands, the realization of why came like a thunderbolt. He was afraid of _himself_. With all his power, all his strength, he could crush Rukia with ease. He almost had. If that Kurosaki brat had not intervened, he would have extinguished this bright light, effortlessly. The very thought was alarming. She might not have been made of glass, not frail like Hisana had been. But in comparison to Byakuya himself, she was fragile. Just reaching out to stroke her face, he could break her absolutely. One instant – that's all it would take. Just one second of carelessness, one moment where his control failed, and she would be finished.

In his shadow, Rukia turned in her sleep. A soft, protesting whine escaped from her throat. For once, it seemed his mere presence was not enough to completely banish the nightmare. It would require a stronger reassurance. But Byakuya didn't know what that stronger comfort could be. Feeling his spiritual energy surround her like a protective embrace had never failed him before. Even more confused by this inadequacy than his feeling of anxiety, the head of the Kuchiki clan flailed for a moment.

"Nii...sama..."

Had he been the type of person to do so, Byakuya would have jumped at the unexpected whisper. Captivated, he watched her for the slightest sign that she had woken up. She turned again, this time to lay on her back, giving him a perfect view of her still-sleeping face. Her hand finally let go of the cover, only to move towards him, unconsciously sensing where he was and reaching out for him. He dipped his head, a gesture for a non-existent audience. Then he gracefully folded himself to the floor, where he knelt beside his sister. It was a rare position for him to be in, literally. Only when she had been injured, had he ever done this. Kneeling beside her like a sentinel, his shadow fell across the blanket.

Then he reached over, and took her hand in his.

He took great care to be gentle, the fear that he could crush her with the barest flick of his wrist still in the front of his mind. It was like he had fallen into the past, and was once again holding the hand of his beloved wife. For one wonderful and horrible minute, it was his beautiful Hisana beside him. The face in his mind, and the face in his eyes blurred together as tears gathered. Then the dream was gone, and it was only Rukia once again.

She shifted one last time, and then with sigh, settled down in a peaceful sleep once more. Byakuya tilted his head as he contemplated the meaning of that action. She doesn't need to say it for him to know what she thinks of him. She doesn't even need to be awake. He is powerful, and he is gentle. He is kind and generous. He won't hurt her, and will protect her. He doesn't need to be afraid of himself. She isn't. He is her adopted brother, and she loves him, and always will.

A smile graced her face as he gave her hand the most tender squeeze before placing it back on the cover. The blanket almost seemed to tuck itself around her, as his hands moved in silence. As he stood, a single tear fell to the floor, and he wondered what he's done to deserve this. Byakuya walked back to his own room, wondering about how his little sister can comfort him without even meaning to.

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><p><em>*dances about happily* Yay! I did it! Review and tell me what you liked and didn't like please because I loove feedback. I didn't go off on a tangent anywhere did I? Sometimes I think I start wandering in my stories, but I can't tell, and gymnastgirl is no help. :P<em>


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